Victory Lap of Sorts

August 14, 2016 / jim fetig / 14 Comments

100-mile Wilderness, Maine, August 1-10, 2016 — Bottom line: Eye witness accounts are notoriously unreliable. I remembered the last 100 miles of my thru hike as a piece of cake. In my memory, only the second day was challenging. Oh Grasshopper, you definitely mis-remembered that experience!

Absent the adrenaline of a thru hike, the 100-mile Wilderness was hard work, and was it ever. Nevertheless, it was a joy to share it with Windy (Pepsi Hiker) Horn and watch her face brighten with excitement as the wonders of this gem of a hike revealed themselves like a sultry fan dancer hungry for tips. If Katahdin is the cherry on top, the wilderness is definitely the whipped cream and definitely worth the effort.

I met Wendy and her hiking partner Diane near Port Clinton, PA in 2014 on my thru hike. We hiked together for several days before I eventually outran them and they had to return home to northern Illinois. We kept in touch.

This summer I shared dinner with Wendy and her friend Rene at the Skyland resort in Shenandoah National Park. Mostly we talked about hiking.

Turned out that Wendy has section hiked West Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania. Nice, but little to write home about. I suggested she chew off a chunk of excitement for motivation. That’s how we found ourselves tramping our way through the ultimate 100 miles of Maine.

I drove to Maine to visit an old friend for a couple of days before snagging Wendy at the Manchester, NH airport. We then motored six-plus hours north to Millinocket and stayed at the AT Lodge before being shuttled to Monson, the gateway to the 100-mile Wilderness. There we stayed at Shaw’s, now under new and enthusiastic ownership. The place was packed to overflowing.

The first stop was the Appalachian Trail Conservancy’s new visitor center in Monson. The number of AT hikers is overwhelming Baxter State Park and Mt. Katahdin. A new permit system is being tested that will ultimately meter in a finite number of hikers per day and limit the allowable number coming from the AT to 3,000 hikers per annum.

We will save the arguments about the efficacy of this system for another time.

At Shaw’s we arranged a resupply drop which, sadly has upped in price from $25 to $80. Seems hikers were dumping their garbage in and around the old 5-gallon paint buckets. Worse, some food was being stolen. Now, resupply is delivered to your hand. It takes some doing, but it worked okay for us except that it cost an unanticipated $40 each. At least we could split the $80 cost.

THE DROUGHT

Maine suffered a dry winter. This weather pattern has continued into summer. In spite of the drought, the ponds have plenty of water to keep the outlet streams running. The tertiary streams and many springs are bone dry. Hikers need to plan their water carefully. The water sources for two Lean-tos were bone dry.

Same spot, two years apart. The soil is thin with only inches of soil having been created since the glaciers retreated. It doesn’t take much for a rain shower to make mud, or the sun to just as rapidly dry it out for that matter.

Desiccation is everywhere. Even the blueberries are raisins. If the berries fail, the bears, deer and other animals which depend on them will suffer. The harsh reality is that some will starve.

The forest is tinder dry and we learned that fire crews have been propositioning equipment in expectation of forest fires that most certainly will occur.

Here’s a graphic example of the drought’s effects. Little Wilson Falls, two years apart.

Crossing Little Wilson Creek, two years apart. This is not a crossing I ever imagined would be feet dry.

THE TRAIL

The trail begins gently enough with some gentle climbs and slab walks.

Plenty of roots, considered a trail feature in Maine.

Got rocks? We climbed this twice … How? The trail was rerouted at some point to include this gem. The old trail wasn’t blocked and we accidentally did a two hour loop. Ugh!

Not exactly a sprint.

THE JOURNEY

Ya got yer stream crossings and yer views.

We planned for an eight-day transit, allowing for some short and some long days dependent on the terrain. The weather opened windless, humid and hot. Temps were in the 80s and 90s which is cooking for Maine.

Normally, I drink one to two liters per day and another in camp. The first day I got dehydrated because several water sources were dry. I filled up my spare three liter bladder (six lbs.) which we shared. Problem solved.

Two years ago, I didn’t encounter more than a dozen or so hikers. This year there were dozens upon dozens. The college students told us that hiking is now a campus fad. Good to get new blood into the woods, but the trash level was much higher than before.

Two students from Elon U. They had a general idea of what to do, but little knowledge of Leave No Trace outdoor ethics and practices or the fact that privies aren’t everywhere you can camp, or how to properly wash dishes in the woods (not in the pond), or the finer techniques of hanging a food bag. I pulled out my handy Leave No Trace card and led a discussion in the proper practices.

Only one place to get water from the pond where we camped the first night. Guess what’s under that artsy reflection of the sky?

Some Bozo washed his dishes at the only place campers can get water. Brilliant. Not!

A snowshoe hare mowed the shelter lawn. His hind feet were huge and mostly white.

As it turned out, I overestimated how much mileage we could make. The terrain was tougher than I remembered and the heat was oppressive. Each of us was fit enough, but …

Wendy twisted her knee about 40 percent of the way in and had to be “med-evaced” (shuttled) back to Monson for a recuperation day. Here she’s arranging transportation. She brought our resupply when we rendezvoused at Jo-Mary Road – along with a surprise: An icy cold Coke which I appreciated very much!

Nature’s art gallery.

Laundry.

Katahdin in the distance.

While Wendy recuperated, I hiked over White Cap Mountain in the cold rain – exactly the same conditions and time of day as two years ago. It wasn’t a happy flash back.

I pushed on to Cooper Brook Lean-to the next day to swim – almost as good as a shower. The next morning Wendy rejoined at Jo-Mary Road and we were off.

The AT has its moments. One that sneaks up on you like a woman in a Philip Marlow novel with that come hither smile then sets you up for a hard fall is the newly reopened White House Landing. I missed this one last time around. They pick you up in a boat and stuff your face full of burgers and incredible homemade pizza. You don’t leave hungry in the morning either! It helped that the weather broke to cool temps, low humidity and a nice breeze. So much for wilderness. Perfect!

This little guy stood his ground. No rattles, but with the body type of a pit viper including the narrow neck and triangular head. Definitely not a hog nose. Possibly a water snake. We were near a river.

The 100-mile wilderness ends at Abol Bridge, just before entering Baxter State Park for the Katahdin climb. There were about 20 hikers headed for Baxter where there’s only room for 12 long distance hikers. Everything else is reserved car camping. We shuttled into Millinocket and drove into Baxter because we didn’t want to occupy space.

Katahdin is awesome!

Made it! Second time around is not the same, but it’s still pretty good.

New sign this year.

Pretty obvious.

More trash than we could carry out. This is just a sample.

Best sign of the trip.

Sisu.

Busy

July 25, 2016July 26, 2016 / jim fetig / 2 Comments

Digging a bear pole hole.

Northern Virginia section of the Appalachian Trail, July 21-24, 2016 — It was time for the monthly PATC ridgerunner meeting, this time at the Blackburn Trail Center where “Trailboss” is the caretaker and gracious host. Since he has an endless list of projects, Robin Hobbs and I showed up early to help do some work at the Sam Moore shelter (AT NOBO mile 999.6).

Bear poles have hooks to hang food bags using a forked pole, here tied down on the far side of the pole.

The pole is set 18 inches in the ground with four 60-lb. bags of concrete.

Working bear pole at Jim & Molly Denton shelter.

While the Sam Moore overseer and I installed the bear pole, Robin and Trailboss hiked north to clear two blowdowns across the AT.

We finished up by replacing a fire ring with a new fire grate.

The social and dinner prompted a lot of discussion. This is where the real business is done.

Sara Leibold, our Northern Virginia ridgerunner and I started patrolling immediately following the meeting.

We spent the first night at the Tom Floyd Wayside shelter with three others.

We took a break after picking up micro trash at the John Singleton Mosby campsite. It is deep in the area Mosby’s raiders patrolled during the civil war.

Along the way we clipped plenty of vegetation which grows prolifically this time of year.

Our last evening was spent at the Denton shelter with a large grouping of campers. Sunday morning we hiked to a road where Sara’s dad was waiting to take her home to Alabama for a whirlwind visit. She works 10 on and four off which gives her sufficient time.

It wasn’t until much later that I realized Sara might be a serial killer! 😉

Tried to photograph an interesting spider web with a phone camera. No luck. A good camera is on my Christmas list.

I was testing a new Osprey pack for use in the 100-mile wilderness next week. It carries nicely, but I like the cargo features of my old one. On a long hike the ride is more important, so the new pack made the Maine manifest.

Next stop Kennebunkport to see my friend Ed, the guy who taught me to split granite. Then to Manchester, NH to pick up Wendy “Pepsi Hiker” Horn at the airport and head for Millinocket where we’ll drop my car and get shuttled to Monson to begin our 100-mile journey. Boots on trail Aug. 1.

Sisu

Workin’ for the Trail Boss.

July 17, 2016July 17, 2016 / jim fetig / 4 Comments

The Hoodlum trail crew gets briefed by the Trailboss, patron of the infamous Roller Coaster. Photo by Mike Gergely

Somewhere on Loudon Heights, WV, July 16, 2016 — There’s a somewhat secret two-year-long project to relocate the Appalachian Trail on Loudon Heights as it descends to Harpers Ferry. By the end of the year, the job will be done.

The pitch of the existing trail reminds people of a church steeple. Such a challenging slope does not facilitate erosion control. Worse, it passes through preserved civil war battlefield entrenchments, which as par for the course, unthinking/uncaring hikers damage by removing rocks to make fire rings. Neither practice, rock displacement nor fires, is appropriate on such hallowed ground.

The AT is constantly being relocated. Someone once told me that less than 5 percent of the trail is original. Not sure that’s accurate, but in this case, a “relo” makes common sense.

So, you need hard work done fast, “Who ya gonna call?” The Hoodlums, of course. In reality, we were building on the good work of crews that came before us and set the stage for those to follow. Nevertheless, the Hoodlums were delighted to answer the call and do our small part on a brutally hot and humid summer day.

The new treadway gently hugs the mountain’s contour lines. If it had a label, it would scream in bold print, “New gentle lower calorie formulation!”

I overheard someone say that his dad said the same thing mine did, “If you don’t go to college, you’ll end up digging ditches.” So much for education. If I was paid for this, I join a union; but as a hobby, it’s fun and the camaraderie is fantastic.

Trail work is like pulling teeth Big old rock molars. Emily knows the physics of leverage.

Then there’s the detailed work of removing roots and smaller stones. Later another crew will smooth out and level this rough cut. Our job this outing was to break ground.

It takes a village to make a trail. Our northern Virginia ridgerunner, Sara Leibold,(foreground) joined us for the day. The trail building added a new dimension to her experience.

Head Hoodlum Janice and Hoodlum Julie got dirty and had fun.

Some rocks are bigger than others, but eventually they all succumb to brute force and a little bit of know-how.

Like distressed jeans, some new trail comes complete with pre-blowdowns. We just worked around and under them. Trailboss attacked them with gusto!

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At the end of the day, we retired to Blackburn Trail Center where Mrs. Trailboss, who just happens to be the chair of the Appalachian Trail Conservancy board, rewarded us with a scrumptious dinner! It doesn’t get better than that. Sisu GA/Me ’14

What the funk?

July 13, 2016July 13, 2016 / jim fetig / 10 Comments

I was out on my annual walk with some of the Potomac Appalachian Trail Club ridgerunners last week.

On this particular walk I started asking about thru hikers about their previous hiking experience. Better than 90 percent said that they had little to no previous backpacking experience before toeing off on Springer Mtn. Admittedly it’s a small sample. Nevertheless, the answer to this question and other observations got me noodling about hiker hygiene …

In central Virginia I called someone to shuttle me into town for a resupply. I tossed my pack into the back of the van; then jumped in. The driver reflexively rolled down her window even before I could get my door shut.

I knew what she was thinking. “This guy’s a thru hiker and I bet he smells to high heaven.” She knew I’d been on the trail for five days and her expectations were reasonable. Hell, when I’m out maintaining my AT section, if the wind is blowing just so, I can smell the thru hikers long before they come into view.

Anyway, as she pulled away, I implored my benefactor.

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t smell.” She looked me in the eye, wrinkled her nose and said, “You’re right.” “How do you do that?” she asked as she returned her window to the upright and locked position.

The answer is simple. Personal hygiene is priority for me and a point of pride. I also don’t want to “smell like a Boy Scout” as my mother used to say to my brother and I when we returned from our camping trips. More importantly, I don’t want to get sick. It’s another level of Leave No Trace if you want to see it that way.

My personal hygiene kit. It clips to and hangs with my bear bag at night. It’s the equivalent of snivel gear for me.

Hikers don’t have to stink if they don’t want to. I may may take it further than most, but staying clean isn’t all that hard and it has many benefits. Experienced hikers tend to be the cleaner ones.

The contents include tooth brush and paste, Dr. Bronner’s soap, waterless shampoo and waterless body wash, large microfiber wash cloths which double as towels, deodorant and Q-tips. Fingernail clippers usually reside in my pocket for quick fingernail cleaning.

Here are eight hiker hygiene considerations.

You don’t have to stink. Using waterless shampoo and body wash each night is the trick. It’s a nice complement to the tick check, the weight is negligible, and it has the added benefit of helping to keep your sleeping bag from smelling like a dead gym sock. Rub it in and wipe it off with a microfiber cloth. You can buy the stuff and any drug store or REI. Hand sanitizer works as deodorant if you rub it in, but I carry the real stuff.
Bury your shit!
Not only is it an unsightly and smelly disease vector, but the Bible itself, Deuteronomy 23:13, says do it! Deuteronomy 23:13
Wash your hands. I allocate two wet wipes per day for use when I relieve myself. I work from the top down, face first, pits followed by the business at hand. When done, they’re returned to the foil container they came in; then on to the trash bag. No monkey butt! I also use a dab of Dr. Bronner’s eco-friendly soap to wash my hands whenever I get water. I wash away from the source in a zip lock I carry for that purpose. I clean my fingernails each time I wash my hands.
Treat or filter your water. I prefer iodine and the neutralizer pills to save weight and space, but I also have a Sawyer. The method is not important. The key is to make it a habit. Better safe than sorry.
Dental care. Brush after breakfast and again after dinner. The key is the brushing action. You don’t need but a dab of toothpaste which you can either swallow or spit into the woods away from camp.
Clean your dishes! This thru hiker was as filthy as her dishes. I cook only foods I can rehydrate in Zip Lock freezer bags or their original containers. If you cook in your pot, clean thoroughly with Dr. Bronner’s and scatter the gray water far away from camp. You can dig a sump and strain out any chunks with grass or vegetation. The chunks need to be packed out.
Lyme disease. This is bad stuff. The most dangerous animal on the AT is the tick. Permethrin kills them on contact. You can have your clothes professionally treated here: Insect Shield or purchase permethrin spray at any Walmart, outdoor store or REI. They even have it at the AT Conservancy Visitor Center. I go overboard. I spray my pack, the inside of my sleeping bag and tent and wear permethrin-treated long pants. For those who don’t like chemicals, weigh the risk.
Noro Virus. The aforementioned practices can do a lot to reduce your chances of catching this ugly bug. If you have a good relationship with your physician, you can get prescriptions that will stop vomiting dead in the water and doxycycline you can take on a prophylactic basis if a tick chomps you. Imodium stops diarrhea. I carry them in my first aid kit. So far, so good, but it’s a comfort to know that they are there. I had to promise that I’d immediately see a doctor if I took any of the prescribed meds.

Stay well. Smell good. Enjoy your hike!

Oh! The things we see.

July 9, 2016 / jim fetig / 7 Comments

Pine Grove Furnace State Park, PA to Harpers Ferry, WV, June 30 – July 6,, 2016 — My annual hikes with our ridgerunners have begun. This year my muffin top needs shrinking so I decided to walk all 240 miles of the PATC section in hopes of burning some of it off. I’d like to do it nonstop, but schedules, theirs and mine, dictate otherwise.

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After dropping my car at the Harpers Ferry National Park long term parking, Robin Hobbs schlepped me up to meet Mitch Mitchell at the store where hikers traditionally eat a half gallon of ice cream to celebrate reaching the halfway point which is just down the trail. From here the math for them changes from counting up the miles to counting them down.

Prospective ridgerunners think the job is about hiking. Readers of this blog know from last year in Georgia and other missives that the opposite is true. It mostly about picking up trash, coaching hikers in Leave No Trace outdoor ethics, counting and interacting with hikers. The miles per day are generally slow and short.

This trip was no different, but here’s fair warning. I’m going to let you in on some ridgerunner reality show secrets and it’s gonna get gross…

We were also out over the July 4th holiday weekend, meaning more people in general, more nubes, and the laggard thru hiker party crowd which is not known for its trail decorum. In fact, they openly admit to yellow blazing (hitch hiking) and to using booze and drugs in excess.

The rule of thumb is that if a hiker isn’t at Harpers Ferry by the Fourth of July, they need to “flip” to Maine and hike south or risk winter weather shutting them out of Mt. Katahdin in October. These folks are walking on the bleeding edge of that axiom.

Selfie at the official half way marker.

Our start was leisurely enough. We got about a half gallon (by volume) worth of trash out of the fire pit at Toms Run shelter and pressed on. Before the day’s end Mitch’s pack reminded me of a colonial tinker plying his trade along the rutted byways that traced the very region we were trekking.

As we moved along, trash of all kinds accumulated.

I don’t know what it is with me and finding pots and pans. Since hiking with Hal and Lauralee last year, I’ve found enough to open my own store.

Any more trash and he won’t have a place to put it. It’s the second pair of new (cheap) boots I’ve found this year alone.

Taking inventory before feeding the friendly dumpster at New Caledonia State Park, PA. We’re not showing you the snack bar just out of the photo. I packed out some of their tasty treats for dinner for that night.

Homeless camp on state park property. It was a family that appeared to have left in a hurry. Some toys and a pink blanket were in one of the tents along with clothing. The food in the cooler was rotten. The park rangers cleaned it up. Too big for us to haul out on our backs.

After spending the night at Birch Run shelter with a noisy crowd of hikers, we press on.

Ridgerunners see a lot of gross stuff on the trail including unburied human waste, used feminine hygiene products, wipes and toilet paper (Charmin blossoms) and the like. We fish it out of privies, pick it up and pack it out or bury it as appropriate. What comes next is a first for me. Why I was surprised, I don’t know.

You’d think after more than 1,000 miles on the trail, hikers would learn a thing or three, especially about hygiene. Maybe not. We found the young woman who owns this food dish improperly camped too close to a stream and illegally camped in the vicinity of a PATC rental cabin. I’d met her previously while hiking with Denise the week prior in Virginia. The embedded dirt on her skin reminded me of a character made up to be in a movie about peasants in the middle ages. My stinky gym socks smell better. Small wonder hikers get sick on the trail.

There were fewer flies on this pile of human scat I buried than on our hiker’s food plate. These videos will go into every presentation I will ever give from now forward on backpacking.

Approaching Deer Lick shelter, we bumped into a PATC trail crew hiking out their tools. They were nice enough to invite us to dinner with the North Chapter group, so we grabbed some of their tools and Chris Ferme’s chainsaw and tagged along for some chicken pot pie, green salad and fresh backed blueberry and lemon pie for dessert. Yum! Chris hauled us back to the trail in time to reach Deer Lick before dark. The next day we hiked over their handiwork. Nice job guys!

The following morning Mitch dropped off to participate in a PATC North Chapter hiker feed back at Pine Grove Furnace. I pushed on to Raven Rock shelter in Maryland to rendezvous with Robin.

People love to steal this sign. I was lucky it was there this trip.

Removed a small blowdown obstructing the trail using a folding saw.

Evidence of the party crowd. Scattered the sticks.

The last of the rhododendron blooms.

Bear activity has been unusually high this season. The good news is that most hikers have found religion when it comes to bears and are hanging their food and toiletries rather than sleeping with them. Yogi and Boo Boo have been working overtime. Bears have entered shelters and stolen packs in search of food and destroyed tents. Shenandoah has closed a section to camping and bear sightings in the PATC’s 240 mile section have been frequent.

While at Raven Rock shelter, MD, Robin and I hiked down to the old Devil’s Race Course shelter location (now torn down) and dismantled the fire ring. That will help make it less inviting for high school drinking parties that caused the new shelter to be built up a steep hill from there.

Now, it didn’t happen by accident that I timed my hike to be at Annapolis Rock for July Fourth ’cause guess what? You can see fireworks from that lofty perch. Unfortunately the rain was falling in buckets with heavy fog. We saw zip, but the campground was nearly full in spite of the forecast.

The clouds were clearing the next morning when I set off for Crampton Gap after a quick photo op with Robin. It was Kyle’s day off (the other Maryland ridgerunner), but I’ve been out with him before and we intercepted him along the way. He’ll be there through Oct. 31, so we’ve got plenty of time.

The AT foot bridge over I-70.

The original Washington Monument outside Boonsboro, MD. My camera lens was foggy with sweat!

C&O Canal lock # 33 just outside Harpers Ferry. I’m standing on the tow path.

Back to Virginia and Shenandoah soon. Sisu

Waiting for g OD ot.

June 29, 2016June 29, 2016 / jim fetig / 5 Comments

Dick’s Dome Shelter, VA, AT mile 984.3, June 24, 2016 — My friend Denise texted me this morning that she was headed my way, leaving the trailhead at Hwy 522 Front Royal, VA. Her ETA at Dick’s Dome: 7 pm. She’s late, but that’s okay. I’ve been talking to the hikers and exploring the new “Whiskey Hollow” shelter under construction about 100 yards away.

My last visit to Dick’s Dome: Stink Bugs + Notebook Odds and Ends

Denise is my trail crew friend, now known by her trail name “The Optimistic Dictator,” OD for short. Readers will recall that I hiked with Denise in Georgia as she started: They’re Off I’ve also written about our adventures here: Let’s Go Hiking.

The PATC 2016 Ridgerunners

When she texted I was with the PATC ridgerunners finishing our monthly meeting.

This month we chose the PATC Highacre “cabin” in Harpers Ferry. It’s within 50 yards of Jefferson’s Rock if anyone cares to look it up. Regardless, nice view of the Potomac River.

The gathering includes a Thursday evening social followed by a Friday business meeting. These are hard working folks who patrol the trail, teach Leave No Trace outdoor ethics, act as ambassadors to the hiking community, clean up trash and privies, and patch up blisters and more serious injuries and afflictions.

We learned that the number of thru hiker reaching Harpers Ferry is up 18 percent over last year. We’re somewhat skeptical of this number’s legitimacy. Here’s why.

In recent years more and more hikers appear to be “yellow blazing.” That means they hitch rides ahead and don’t actually hike all the trail. For example, I saw hikers at the Hoodlum’s hiker feed who appeared in Harpers Ferry, 100 miles north the very next day when I was there. Hummmmm…… The younger generation is going to hell, and it always has!

Flash forward. With dusk on the horizon, I pulled up my WordPress app and began my thoughts. Just then OD rolled in. It was marvelous to see her now after wishing her well at mile 80. She’s nearly 1000 miles into her hike. That’s a big odometer number by foot.

We took up residence for the evening at the Whiskey Hollow shelter under construction. It’s going to be a nice one.

Our itinerary marched us through an Appalachian Trail section branded the “roller coaster.” It’s a series of steep pointless ups and downs, more of a toothache in the grand scheme of the 2,200 mile trek, than a serious challenge, but nevertheless… I’ve often said it’s like an outlet mall where Pennsylvania ships its surplus, worn out rocks, and the stones that don’t sell. This time it occurred to me that the roller coaster may also be where PA’s fugitive boulders go on the lam. That is to say there’s no shortage of miserable rocks on the roller coaster.

So, there I was. It was hot, humid and I was now hiking with someone sporting “trail legs.” Like a Philip Marlow client, the dame’s spandex oozed confidence and strength. Her glimmering smile stared down the roller coaster like Paul Bunyan making match sticks in the north woods. My role in this little meet up was to act as speed break.

This trip “slow-and-melting” was my middle name and I know Denise took great delight in having to stop and wait for me more than a couple of times. How do I know? She loved telling the story. Yea Denise!!!

We found what we thought was trail magic. Instead it was a refreshment station for a trail running group. They didn’t seem to mind that we helped ourselves to some of their cold Gatorade!

Sometimes your dogs need a dip in cold water!

We took a selfie at the 1,000 mile mark (L) GA in March (R)

Raven Rock, VA

Trail Magic at Keys Gap from a 2014 thru hiker and her mom.

A happy hiker reaches the psychological mid point at the Appalachian Trail Conservancy in Harpers Ferry.

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The official enshrinement in hiker history. This is a strong young woman.

Did I tell you that a bear tried to chew through Denise’s kevlar “bear proof” Ursack food bag in Shenandoah National Park? In this case, bro bruin chomped into a bottle of sriracha sauce. Hope this particular Yogi learned his lesson. That stuff is liquid bear spray.

Oh the adventures OD has had! Stay tuned…

Channeling my inner 3-year-old

May 27, 2016 / jim fetig / 8 Comments

Shenandoah National Park, May 23 – 27, Spring Trail Crew Week — Three-year-olds love to splash in water and play in the mud. That’s what we did all week.

The upper part of the trail to White Oak Canyon is full of springs. The trail is always muddy. It follows that hikers don’t like to get mud on their shoes. Therefore, when they encounter mud, they hike around it. The trail grows wider and the environmental impact spreads.

Last year the park service trail crew tried to improve the drainage, but winter frost heaving did a job on their work. This year, with our help, it was time to dig it all up and start over. So we ripped up 224 feet of rock wall and built it back using a different technique.

It was muddy – and we loved it!

The structure we built is called a lateral drain. In this case the water seeps in from multiple sources all along the length of the trail, so the ditch catches and directs it to a place where we can get it out of the way.

The ditch is dug and the rock gets lapped-stacked for stability. The rock on this section came from a commercial source. Call it an invasive rock species. There wasn’t enough natural rock to do the job.

So much for the pick and shovel work.

We live at the newly renovated Pinnacles Research building which is an old CCC facility. I was there earlier this month for the Leave No Trace master educator course.

When we’re done working, we load up the government van the park service provides and head back to Pinnacles.

The first one dives in the shower while everyone else grabs a beer.

When we’re clean, we head to town for dinner when we don’t BBQ. Millennials aren’t the only people with their heads up their phones. Our excuse is that we’re off the grid in the park, so we read email and catch up on the news when we can. At least that’s our story – an we’re sticking to it. With no TV or WIFI, once we’re back, it’s early to bed.

Sometimes we work with logs. They’re faster, but don’t last nearly as long as stone – maybe 15 years with luck.

Debarking logs improves their life in the ground by removing the medium by which bugs and other rotting agents grow.

A young woman was hiking down the trail only to look up and be greeted by this guy (serial killer-looking maniac). Imagine the look of panic on her face! I was rolling in the mud laughing. BTW, he’s a retired State Department Russian expert!

Once debarked, into the ground they go. These are long-lasting locust logs BTW. (For all my friends, including Karma, hiking the Pacific Crest Trail this year – the water might be welcome about now.

We always love working with the park service trail crews. In this case, some may remember Eric “the human crane” from last year.

Our partnership with the park service, working side-by-side, is close and mutually beneficial.

We finished up Thursday morning. With time on our hands, we wondered over to the Elk Wallow trail (between Elk Wallow and Mathew’s Arm campground) to remove several blowdowns blocking the trail. One took an entire hour to slice up.

Calling home from Skyland where we ate dinner last night.

Contrast.

Didn’t know I was doing an Oreo commercial – honestly!

The MacLoed. The Swiss Army knife of trail tools.

Leave No Trace!

May 6, 2016 / jim fetig / 9 Comments

Overlooking the Shenandoah River Valley. About the only dry sunshine we enjoyed.

Shenandoah National Park, May 1-5, 2016 — Some hikers are pigs. No doubt about it. I saw plenty of that on my AT thru hike. Being involved with ridgerunning has driven it home like a pile driver. That’s why I signed up for the Leave No Trace Master Educator Course taught by the National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS).

We’ve got to get better at helping people do the right thing when they are in the back country or it will evolve into a place we don’t recognize. Educating those who use the great out doors is important. So for me, I’m already in with a dime so why not a dollar?

In addition to trashing the woods, some folks can’t resist making the maximum impact they can. Most times they are simply ignorant. These folks can be educated. Others not so much. There is a “no rules for me” crowd that is killing it for everyone else. If the trend continues, future generations won’t have a lot left in a pristine state to enjoy.

Now you know why.

(If this weren’t a family-friendly blog, I’d show you some outrageously gross behavior.)

Pinnacles featuring mouse-proof storage! Rededicated the previous day.

Saturday night I reported to the newly renovated Pinnacles Research Center in Shenandoah’s central district to kick off five days of advanced Leave No Trace (LNT) training designed to teach us how to train LNT trainers and to give more effective classes ourselves. The idea is to help instill an outdoor ethic – good behavior when nobody is watching.

The group was small. Seven students with two instructors. The course is mostly practicum in the field with each student required to present a training session on one of the seven principles of LNT. They are: 1) Plan ahead and prepare. 2) Travel and camp on well-used surfaces. 3) Dispose of waste properly. 4) Leave what you find. 5) Minimize campfire impacts. 6) Respect wildlife. 7) Be considerate of other visitors. If you’ve read this blog, you’ve found it has touched on these concepts plenty of times.

My fellow students were a delight. Each cares a great deal about the outdoor environment. Their diverse backgrounds included a college student who works at a Scout camp in the summer, a professional Boy Scouts of America scouter, a county park environmental educator, a Vermont Green Mountain Club summit steward, a college professor and more.

All told, we were a good humored lot that could not stop talking shop.

This forecast proved to be optimistic.

We would suffer the first day indoors followed by three nights and four days tramping through Shenandoah’s Hazel Mountain wilderness area. Weather forecast: Liquid sunshine garnished by warm and cold temperatures with wind and thunderstorms on the side. Yum! At one point the weather abruptly changed to pea-sized hail and the pellets stung the hey out of my bare arms.

Along the way we slept in four-person circus tents and prepared meals from scratch. These are not my favorite ways to approach backpacking. I like to be in control and don’t like the time and mess required to do dishes in the back country. Nevertheless, this arrangement turned out to be simple, efficient and actually facilitated some of the lessons we were studying. It reminded me of being in the Army and Boy Scouts.

Tents

Hanging glasses

Tent mates

Our group.

Our field kitchen.

Deeelicious! Pasta, broccoli, cauliflower, salmon and cream cheese.

Last night. At Birds Nest 3, a hut on the AT. Discussion on how we planned to apply our newly acquired skills. It rained buckets and hour later. No. That’s not a whiskey bottle. It’s a water bottle with a filter on top. We wished it was whiskey.

Cooking at shelters is a bit easier.

Cleaning up and turning in NOLS equipment back at Pinnacles.

The scenery alone is worth the time.

Shelters are designed to concentrate environmental impact in a few places. Sometimes you can’t make it to the next shelter. If you can tell I was ever there, then I did something wrong.

Flip Flops – the New Hiking Boot?

April 18, 2016April 18, 2016 / jim fetig / 6 Comments

Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, April 16 -17, 2016 — Flip flops are not going to be the recommended hiking boot anytime soon. Certainly they have merit. After all they’d tread lightly on the environment – with no cleats to rearrange the dirt. They’re cool and airy which might help limit athletes foot. Certainly they’d dry quickly. Alas, they’re just not practical.

Flip flops are a type of Appalachian Trail thru hike. Rather than hike in a single straight line direction from one terminus to the other, flip floppers are hiker jazz artists, jumping ahead or starting somewhere between the two ends and working outward. They still hike all 2,200 miles within 12 consecutive months, they just don’t book a linear itinerary.

The ATC is trying to encourage flip flop hiking in an attempt to alleviate some of the spring season overcrowding on the southern 500 miles of the trail.

Enter the flip flop Festival, an attempt to increase awareness of and participation in nontraditional AT thru hikes.

More than a hundred aspiring thru hikers and hundreds of hikers attended the many seminars on hiking-related subjects including trail etiquette, hygiene, basic hiking, trail issues and long distance backpacking. I offered the latter. My slides are here: Eating the Elephant

The festival featured vendors, displays and even a food truck. The cannon is located in the exact same spot as one that appears in a civil war era photograph.

Sunday morning we sent those starting their hikes off in style following a tasty pancake breakfast hosted by the Harpers Ferry Odd Fellows Club which was chartered in 1833! It’s building is graced with (rather poorly) repaired cannonball holes from the civil war. Talk about history!

Later that afternoon we were hiking up the southern shoulder of South Mountain (Maryland), just outside Harpers Ferry, leading the second of Sunday’s day hikes up to a nice viewpoint overlooking the Potomac River called Weverton Cliff.

The conga line of hikers winding up the switchbacks reminded me of a big city rush hour traffic jam. People were stepping all over each other.

Why would anyone do this, I thought. I like to share scenery and the outdoor experience with a few friends or people that I like in small doses. That’s when I realized that above all, one word describes why I like to be on the trail where ever that trail may be. Solitude… and that’s no flip flop on my part.

To bear or not to bear a Bear Canister

April 11, 2016 / jim fetig / 4 Comments

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The Appalachian Trail in Georgia, March 2016 –The bear canister debate can get intense. A lot of people like to troll this subject. My intent is not to rip the scab off that wound or relitigate the question here. I’m only reporting observations I made last month as the hiking season started in Georgia.

The fact is, according to the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (ATC), U.S. Forest Service and other agencies, that human interaction with bears is increasing on the southern 500 miles of the AT and the ATC is recommending that hikers use bear canisters from Springer Mountain to Damascus, VA.

Last year I had the occasion to be a ridgerunner in Georgia during late February and March. This year fortune granted me the opportunity to hike the state again with a friend as she launched her thru hike. Comparing bear canister use between these two years is interesting.

The conversation on the trail about protecting food from bears also changed some over the course of the past year. This is what I heard and observed.

As a ridgerunner I was issued a Bear Vault BV 500 (there are other brands) because my duties required camping within the bear canister-required zone in the Blood Mountain area.

I hate to say it but most hikers who showed up at Woods Hole shelter were ignoring this U.S. Forest Service requirement. They were unaware that the local bears had learned to shake food bags off the cable there.

In total, during my time in Georgia last year, I saw a very small number of bear canisters over the five week period I was on the trail. This one was at the shelter on Springer Mountain.

After conversations with hundreds of hikers over the past couple of years, my guess is the majority of thru hikers don’t take bears all that seriously thinking that what ever happens, it won’t happen to them. Moreover, most hikers don’t understand bear behavior well enough to recognize the many different ways bears might be attracted and habituated to human food.

With the number of hikers rapidly increasing, especially the large numbers starting in the south, this is unhelpful – mostly to the bears.

So, last year the ATC initiated a Leave No Trace-inspired effort to promote the use of bear canisters. Remember what the rangers say: A fed bear becomes a dead bear. Progress?

I arrived on Springer March 8 and spent the night talking to hikers and waiting for my friend to toe the starting line the next day. The first thing I noticed was three bear canisters. As we hiked north, I noted about a dozen or more or so. These were carried by older hikers – certainly they were over 30. They’d heard about and taken the ATC’s advice seriously.

Bears are always a topic at the beginning of a thru hike. For most, the question more about whether bears are a legitimate threat to them, not whether their habits can be a threat to bears.

A lot of hikers said they had considered food protection but had decided that the canisters were too heavy (mine weighs 2 lbs. 9 oz.), or that they would occupy too much space in their packs to make hauling one worthwhile. At around $80 retail, they are expensive too. Several implied they would rent them if that were an option.

Beyond canisters, people were debating whether or not the Ursack – made out of Kevlar, the material that bulletproofs bulletproof vests – was a better bet.

Ursacks are lined with a thick plastic bag that functions much like a Zip Lock. This helps protect the contents from moisture and reduces the aroma signature. Depending on size, their costs range from $55 – $90, so they’re not cheap either.

The white bag is an Ursack. It must be tied to a tree to be effective. My Bear Vault is in the far background.

Ursack’s are approved in certain areas but not in others, including the AT. It seems that even though bears can’t chew through them, they can still crunch up the contents and get a small taste – and that does not solve the problem. There’s some argument about how varmint proof they are, though their website says tests show they stand up. No doubt supporters would offer supportive arguments.

The attraction of Ursacks lies both in reduced weight and the amount of space they take up inside a pack. Being pliable, unless you’re using their aluminum shield, they are much easier to pack around. In other words, you can jam more stuff in your pack.

Bear canisters are designed to be left on the ground, yet some people still use the bear cables, poles or boxes when they are available.

The Bear Vaults have grooves in the sides designed to aid strapping to the outside of a pack. This doesn’t work so well with most internal frame packs. They easily strap on top of some Granite Gear packs. I saw one in Georgia and liked it. Unfortunately I was too dim witted to get a photo.

Although we’re not going to see the masses rush to embrace bear canisters or Ursacks in the near future, it appears the conversation about not habituating bears to human food is growing and more positive. That direction, in my view, ultimately helps serve the coexistence of both magnificent bears and intrepid people. I’m cautiously optimistic over time.

Full disclosure. I bought a Bear Vault BV 500 this year and hiked with it in Georgia. I also have a sow with cubs resident and often seen on the AT section I maintain in Shenandoah National Park. I frequently hang my hammock and camp over night on my section when there’s a lot of work to be done. In that context alone, using a bear canister makes sense for me and my momma bear. Sisu

A fork in the road

Yogi said, "When you come to a fork in the road, take it." So I'm following the white blazes.

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